


faint hearts, fair maidens

by macha



Series: Georgia on My Mind [2]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-08
Updated: 2007-05-08
Packaged: 2017-10-18 11:43:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/188566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macha/pseuds/macha





	faint hearts, fair maidens

_  
_

### _A01.01.02 Age of Earth: in the heart, we are fire._

 _  
_

and the name of the tale is:

  


### faint hearts, fair maidens

  


So we need the heart of a dragon, then. To break the spell.

I need. There is no we. We're not even having this conversation.

I'm pretty sure that was an open casting call back there.

Yeah. For a hero.

Well, as it happens, I don't think you're exactly typecast for that role.

Is that so? I've got plenty of experience. Whereas where were you, exactly, when they were holding those auditions?

Had a little game going. Couldn't leave when i was winning, could I?

You know, heroes aren't supposed to deal from the bottom of the deck.

You don't know what the stakes were.

I know what stakes are, thank you. You never did know when it was time to quit.

You always think the end will justify the means.

So what? You never could keep the goal in mind.

That's where we're different, see?

No, i don't see.

The way you weigh it up, it's only the goal that matters. You don't care what you have to do to get there.

That's how i get things done. Good things. I've done a lot of good. Way more than you.

It's not the deeds that matter. There's no.... never mind.

No, let's hear it, now you've got this far.

You just don't know the difference, between good and evil. And you don't think it matters, what's inside you.

I'm out there trying to do good, at least. You're out there playing craps with a stacked deck for chump change. And you have the nerve to think you're better than me.

Everyone you meet, they're only chips to you, in your cosmic game. They're not, you know, they're every bit as real as you. They bleed, they rust. Sometimes they die. You never want to know them, just in case tomorrow they get in your way. You play your three-card monte game in every alley, and you've palmed the stone, and you never tell the marks that they can't ever win with you. They're all expendable, on your way to glory. That's where we're not the same. In any universe you happen to be in, in your own eye you are the only thing that counts: your cards, your rules. So everything around you dies. And unlike you, too many die for keeps. That's why she didn't trust you any more, to guard her back, or save the world. You just don't get it, and I begin to think you never will.

I'm still a better man than you.

You're not a man at all.

You're just the same.

I'm not. That's where you're wrong. My soul's my own.

I've got one too.

Yours is a curse. A plague, visited on you. It doesn't help you choose, it pens you in. It's torment, never blessing. So you'd sell it cheap. In everything, you calculate your best advantage. You're not the hero, you're the antihero.

Why are you dogging me? Leave me alone.

I can't. Somebody has to come behind you, to pick up the pieces, set things right. You don't know how. You don't know why. And you think it doesn't matter. Collateral damage. So, now you're stuck with me. Here's looking at you, kid. Another round? We need the heart of a dragon, then, to break the spell.

Don't you have a game somewhere you could be losing?

See, that just shows you haven't been paying attention. I always lose in the end.

Only an idiot would play to lose. And sure enough, i remember you losing, back as far as i can remember. Keep pushing me and maybe we'll see if your luck holds up.

You played that game for years. But I'm still here. Your games all end in death: mine end in life. Not always mine. What does that tell you?

That you're a fool.

Aye. Poor Spike's a-cold. But the king makes his own folly, because he mistakes the heart of things.

*****

You're back? Empty-handed, as usual, I see. How's that hero thing working out for you then?

I like to travel light.

Well, never mind, the job is done, I got the heart.

I see that. Tough fight, then? Bit of a challenge on the cleanup end.

Now I just need the key. It's over there. Guess I should warn you, there's a dragon behind you.

Ta for the bulletin, mate. There's a dragon in front of me too. You think I haven't always known that?

I know what I am.

Do you indeed, then? You ever notice how you always end up back there where you started, every single time?

You're gonna leave me here like this?

You've got the hoard, now that you've made your bones. Admit it, isn't this the very thing you always wanted? Plenty of time to brood, and everything here is yours by right of conquest.

I did feel... something. For you. For the boy. I wasn't empty.

Well, thanks ever so for that. But you want to own things. Like the fair maiden. Told me I couldn't, once, ever again, but you always did.

Was that so wrong? I tried to keep her safe. Even from me.

You took her heart.

Didn't you want to do the same?

Never. I gave it back. You kept her in a jar. I set her free.

So now you get to be the hero.

No. That's not the game I play.

What did you lose then, in the crap game?

See, that's the question that you might have asked me sooner. I would have told you too. I bet against the prophecy that brought you here.

But then you lost.

I always lose. I bet my heart.

It doesn't beat.

You always make the same mistake. 'Win the heart of the dragon'. You take your trusty broadsword, and you cut the heart out of the beauty, or the beast, and call it done. This time for a prize you get to sit and guard the hoard. A judgment on you.

But isn't that what I'm supposed to do?

You're asking me to tell you now? I found a dragon of my own. That's Georgia here. We had a chat. We've got an understanding. I set her free. We're off together, then, to rescue the fair maiden. So congratulations. You now own everything those beady eyes can see. Again. From what you're sitting on to the air you never breathe. Except, that is, for me. And Georgia here. But now you're trapped in here, larger than life and twice as cranky. For you, it's always been the same. You can never reach the key. Whenever you get tired of that, you let me know.


End file.
